


Intermission

by where_fandoms_come_to_play



Category: Dark Angel, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Alec McDowell and Dean Winchester Are The Same Person, Other, Probably Some Smut And/Or Death, Weird Plot Shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-12 04:40:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7920886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/where_fandoms_come_to_play/pseuds/where_fandoms_come_to_play
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where ever did Dean get to while Sam was at Stanford? Well...today we find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Captivity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hellsalleycat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellsalleycat/gifts).
  * Inspired by [How Alec McDowell And Dean Winchester Are The Same Person](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/225463) by where-fandoms-come-to-play. 



> THERE WILL (probably although it might happen) BE NO SMUT FOR ALEC/MAX.
> 
> There might be smut, although not the type you might be looking for. So sorry :/
> 
> Also, just a side note, it would probably be a good idea to read the theory before you start reading this story. If you don't, you're gonna be very confused. Just sayin' :/

A piercing white light floods Dean's eyes as he slowly regains consciousness. He groans slightly as his vision clears, revealing that he's in a large metal chair, his limbs pinned down by leather straps. _How did I get here?_  A hand roughly grabs his chin, forcing his head up, until a bleach blonde woman with short, pixi-esque hair and a certain evil glint in her eye fills his vision. She turns his face forcefully, as if examining him and trying hard not to hurt him even though she  _desperately _ wants to. "Well aren't you pretty", she whispers, a certain venom to her voice. Her other hand grasps his bicep, groping him. Dean tenses under her gaze, and her eyes light up,"Oh! And strong" she coos, before smiling sweetly. "You'll do very nicely." Dean takes his opportunity, spitting in her face. She steps back, wiping her face roughly, before stepping closer to Dean's face, "Now, now. You're going to have to change your attitude if we're ever going to get along." She sing-songs with a tone that could only be mocking and condescending. He stares at her for a moment before head-butting her. She staggers back, wiping the blood from her broken nose. The small blonde woman turns to a man in a white lab coat.  “Do what you have to do. I want him out _cold_."  
~~~  
Dean wakes up countless hours later, groggy and disoriented. She appears again in front of him, her expression cold and unforgiving."What is your designation?" She growls, clearly not taking his crap anymore. He blinks at her, registering the question. She slaps his face, intending to bruise some sense into him. " _What. Is. Your. Designation?_ ", she punctuates each word with a slice as if from a switchblade. He winces, swallowing heavily, his anger arousing and in turn quickly dissipating into fear. His brain reeling from the chloroform, he realizes this is her extremely military-esque way of asking what his name is. He manages to utter a strangled "D-Dean Winchester". She punches him, the brass knuckles on her hand colliding with his eye and causing it to swell painfully. "Your designation is X5-494," she pauses, getting as close as she can to his ear, whispering ominously, "Dean Winchester is dead." Her words drowning and muffling in his head as a burning sensation envelops his whole body, as if every single cell is hitting a self-destruct button simultaneously.

And ultimately rebuilding.

Because it is.

In the midst of his suffering, Dean catches a single word, that echoes over and over again in his mind. _Manticore_. You see, Dean just so happens to be in the hands of Elizabeth Renfro; torturer, executioner, director of Manticore, and all around evil bitch. Considering the circumstances, it's a miracle he's even alive.  
~~~

  
_3 Weeks Ago - Kansas City, MO_

_Inside an abandoned warehouse, Dean stood face to...pseudo-face with a shapeshifter. They circled each other like two male lions; each waiting for the other to attack. It was a typical, run of the mill, cookie-cutter shifter case. He had done this a thousand times before. Piece of cake. Right? Wrong. Either the shifter was going to kill him... actually no. That's it. The shifter was going to kill him. Dean was screwed. First solo case and the first thing he goes and does is guarantee that he gets filleted. If he died hunting this shifter, John would sell his soul to bring him back. And then he would kill Dean himself. Dean shivered at the thought, a movement which the shifter easily spotted, and in Dean's moment of weakness, it took its chance and morphed into him easily._

Well that's just perfect.

_Dean had a single silver bullet in his gun. He COULD NOT miss this shot. The silver knife already thrown across the room amidst their sparring, this was his only chance. He withdrew his gun, turned off the safety, pointed it straight at the shifter, and fired. Just as he fired, the shifter attempted to dodge at the last second, the bullet lodging in its shoulder. A piercing wail sounded throughout the warehouse. The shifter collapsed on its side, still alive, but suffering. Suddenly, it jumped up, sprinting out of the warehouse, tempting Dean to pursue it. Dean was never good at chasing people/things, and could only chase it for about 100 meters before he had to stop to catch a few wheezing breaths. The injured shifter ran off into the horizon, Dean swearing under his breath in between gasps for air._

_Dean lost the shifter's scent for 2 weeks before he picked it up again in Oklahoma City. It was pretty much a dead giveaway when he was arrested for shoplifting in a 7 Eleven he had never been into before. He bailed himself out with one of his [stolen] credit cards and drove off to Seattle. He was ready. He was going to end this shifter if it was the last thing he did._

Looking back on it now, Dean wished he had left it alone. If only he had. Maybe then he wouldn't be strapped down to a chair with all kinds of prongs and prods in his arms and sensors attached to his head. He was slowly losing consciousness again, his mind going fuzzy. _What if I die?_ A fleeting thought entered his mind, right before his brain shut down again.  
~~~  
The next time he opened his eyes, Dean could no longer remember his name. The name Dean in his head slowly faded away, only to be replaced with a number: X5-494. And Renfro had been right. Dean Winchester had ceased to exist. He was merely the shell of a man, a husk. Dean Winchester, the hero, had been forgotten.


	2. Silence

Months passed. 494 was put through excruciating tests that evaluated his skills. And surprisingly he excelled in all but one. Obedience. Even though Dean wasn't  _Dean_ anymore, his compassion never escaped him. 

No matter who it was, if they were in danger, he would save them. You could call it Hunter's instinct, but we all know the truth. His love for his brother lingered, despite the relentless brainwashing and Manticore's attempt to erase who he really was.


End file.
